Frost

VIII. THE RECONCILIATION

It was finally the night before Christmas, and Santa was doing what he did best, flying around in his enchanted red sleigh, pulled along by his faithful reindeer.

When he arrived in Quebec, Canada, he could sense a considerable change in the air. As though the cold was alive . . . he knew better than most what that meant. All the same, he did his rounds, keeping himself in good spirits, until he came across the outskirts of the city.

There she stood, hair seeming an even more vibrant shade of white in the moonlight, eyes shining like precious gems. "Kringle," Jack Frost greeted, regarding Santa with a gaze of near disinterest as she lounged on the roof of this, his next stop.

"Jack," Santa returned quietly, climbing out of his sleigh with much more grace than a man his size ought to possess. One learns how to walk quietly after trekking across so many roofs at night, after all.

Jack rose to face him, and despite her petite frame, her entire being seemed to resonate within the air. She watched him, waiting, and as usual, he wasn't sure what for.

"I suppose," he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, "that I ought to thank you." He cleared his throat awkwardly, waving a gloved hand around. "For the snow."

He was admittedly relieved when she smiled somewhat at that. "Yes, you should. And you're welcome." She kind of laughed, a light huff of a sound. "It certainly wasn't easy doing all this in less than forty-eight hours. But I like to think I specialize in the impossible."

Santa nodded at that, still feeling unbearably awkward. It didn't help how at ease the reindeer were -- for they enjoyed Jack's presence. If they had been disrupted, at least he could've had some excuse . . .

"Any way," Jack went on, seeming to sense Santa was uncertain of what to say, "I presume I'll see you at Mum's holiday party."

Santa actually smiled at that, both relieved and surprised that Jack would be attending this party. She had missed the last few, you see, and according to Mother Nature, she'd tried to cite some quite preposterous reasons. "I would quite enjoy that, actually," he said, smile still in place despite the seriousness of his words.

Jack hummed, regarding him with almost undetectable suspicion. "I suppose you would," she said, "given it is your holiday we celebrate, after all. Well," she said in a falsely light-hearted manner, "I best be going. Though the winter fairies were pleased at their jobs being restored, I'm afraid the Tooth Fairy was not, and he and I will likely be exchanging words before the celebration."

She made as though to leave, and only paused when Santa practically shouted, "Wait!"

Jack paused, turning toward Santa with a silent, perplexed expression. "Yes?" she asked, a little impatiently.

Santa shuffled stiffly on the roof, clasping his gloved hands together. "I . . . I wanted to apologize, for-- for what I said, a few years ago."

Jack arched a thin brow, now watching him patiently, clearly expecting him to continue.

He did. "I shouldn't have been so offensive. You . . . have done a great deal of excellent work to bring about winter on this very, very special night . . . and though I know you didn't do it for me--"

"I didn't," Jack confirmed.

Santa smiled nervously. "--I still appreciate it immensely. It shows maturity, bypassing my behavior and doing this for the world . . . and I want to ask you to forgive me."

Jack contemplated this for a long moment, her lips thinning out, her features thoughtful. "I forgive you," she eventually said, "because you apologized. And that was all I needed to hear." She flashed one of her devilishly charming smiles then. "I'll see you at the party, Claus."

This time she gave him no room to protest before she was gone, and this time, he didn't want to. In fact, he felt quite elated at the solution to the issue being that easy . . . so relieved, in fact, that he let out one of his deep, from the belly laughs in joy.

Perhaps Jack Frost was more mature than he ever gave her credit for.

--

In the fairy realm, each and every winter fairy sang Jack's praises. They positively adored her after their experience around the globe, and those who had had the luck to travel in her group gushed even more than the others.

Despite a slight grudge held by the warmer fairies, the entirety of the realm got along grandly. The summer and spring fairies allowed for the winter ones to rant and ramble about the legend, more out of love for their kin than anything else.

After all, it was Christmastime. The time for cheer and good spirits, the time for joy and togetherness. Anyway, soon enough the winter fairies talked themselves out, so the celebrating of the holiday could begin. Some remarked this might be their favorite Christmas yet, while others noted they never wanted to go to such lengths to experience the holiday again.

All in all, there was joy and peace amongst the fairies. No longer were there disputes, or rivaling egos.

But that, of course, was among the fairies . . .

A more intriguing set of ordeals and experiences were unfolding in the great tree, where, for the first time in a decade, all of the legends were gathered together at once.